


Just Tonight

by StillBreathing1039



Category: Bandom, Green Day
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut, not sure what else to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2549567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StillBreathing1039/pseuds/StillBreathing1039
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike and Tré hang out after band practice, when Mike discovers that one night shared long ago was maybe not enough for either of the people involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Well. Here goes. This is the first story I've ever posted on here, so please, please be kind! This is loosely based on a gorgeous picture of Mike and Tré from around 2000.

As the final few notes of Pasalaqua drifted around, the dirty blond drummer flung his sticks into the air, forgetting he was in his low-ceilinged basement. Laughter erupted from his lanky bassist and petite guitarist as he ducked for cover as they came back down to earth.  
“Alright, that was good but I gotta get going, Adie's cousin is flying in and I've got to go pick her up.” said Billie, unplugging his guitar from the amp. A smirk played across Tré's face.  
“Is it the one with the dark curly hair and the curves that I fucked?”  
“Yes, and she still asks me why you didn't call her!” scowled Billie, shooting glares at his snickering rhythm section.

Tré and Mike followed Billie up to say goodbye, then wandered through to the spacious living room.  
“So Mikey, got any plans for this evening?” Tré asked, running a hand through his hair.  
“Thought I might watch the Raiders lose again...” Mike started, then glanced at his watch. “ But I guess it's already started so...” Tré carried on through to the kitchen.  
“Put it on man, then we can drown our sorrows!” he called back. “Beer?” Mike flopped down onto the soft couch, and picked up the remote control.  
“Ye-...” He had only pressed the power button, but the frozen image that popped up on the screen stopped his words dead in their tracks. There was two very naked figures embracing on the screen. The thought of his friend watching porn didn't surprise Mike, God knows how many times they'd caught each other watching it on tours. What shocked Mike into silence was that the two people were both men.

“Mike, what's the score?” Tré called through. No response. “Mike?” Nothing. Giving up, he walked back into the living room carrying a couple of brown beer bottles. “Fucking hell, Mike!” He snapped. “You're gonna need a hearing aid before the ne- ...Mike?!” The bassist's eyes where as big as saucers, and they were focused on the tv screen. Tré followed his gaze to the screen and cringed. Fuckfuckfuckfuck, his internal monologue was screaming at him. He couldn't stop the burning from reaching his cheeks. Damage control time. “Heheheh...” His Beavis & Butthead style laugh was shakier than usual. He swallowed hard. “...Got ya, Mikey...” Mike finally tore his gaze from the screen and looked up at Tré with a skeptical expression. “Heheh...?” Tré tried again, but Mike wasn't buying it. His bright blue eyes were piercing into Tré. Defeated, the drummer dropped the bottles he was still holding onto the coffee table and sank down into the sofa next to Mike. Neither said anything for a few moments.  
“...Look, I had a few drinks last night...” he started quietly, staring intently at the rough calluses on his hands. “...I got curious... y'know...” His defenses and temper then began to rise. “ You've got no right to judge me, it's not like you didn't know! Jesus, Mike, will you just say something?!”  
“I'm not...! I...I just didn't realize you were still... uh...” Mike's voice faltered.  
“Swinging both ways? Mad for cock?! Gay as the Forth of July?! I was just curious, for fucks sake!” Tré was barely controlling a rage normally only reserved for people who cut him up in traffic, Fox News anchors and certain Republican politicians.  
“I'm not judging you! I wouldn't! I just figured you'd got it out of your system a long time ago!”  
“What, one drunken night way back when?! You enjoyed it too Mike, you can't tell me you didn't.” Tré spat.  
“...You know I did.” Mike replied quietly.

They both thought back to that hot, hazy summer night many moons ago. They had been laying on the grass in the tiny backyard of the Ashby Street squat that they called home, and had been drinking steadily all afternoon, just shooting the shit on an already rare day off. Neither could really remember how it'd happened (although both would swear that he hadn't started it) but what had started as a playfight, turned into a drunken fumble, then a slightly sloppy kiss. The kiss had lead to them shedding the thin shorts they had both been wearing, and the alcohol had them shedding all their inhibitions. They had fucked and sucked each other into the early hours, then curled up together under the blanket they had been lying on and slept until sunrise. They had never talked about what happened that night. They never really had a chance to. Not long after, Dookie dropped and their lives were never really the same again. They played gigs. They sold records. They flew around the world. They could afford to leave the squats behind. They became husbands and fathers. Both remembered that night with no regrets, yet they'd never actually gotten around to telling each other that.

“So... you've not...?” Mike's voice pulled Tré out of the memories. He was studying the drummer's face.  
“No... I mean... I thought about it.” Tré was flushing again. “I thought about asking you if you wanted to, but what with the both of us getting married and makin' babies, it never felt right.”  
“What, not even with Billie?! I've seen the way you two look at each other.” Mike said with a twinge of jealousy.  
“It's just flirting, Mike. You know Billie's all talk, anyway.” Tré replied. “You've never thought about it again?”  
“Well, yes...” Mike shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Like you said though, it was never the right time...”  
“What about now?”

Tré's question caught Mike off-guard. As a million thoughts raced through his head, two stuck out like neon lights flickering in the darkness. 1: It was Tré, he'd do anything for him, and 2: why the hell not? He looked up and saw the same longing, the same need in Tré's eyes that he was fighting to keep under control. He couldn't stand it. He leant over and cupped Tré's head, gently pulling it towards his. A small moan escaped the drummer as their lips met.

This kiss wasn't as sloppy as their first, but the passion behind it felt familiar. Mike grabbed hold of the front of Tré's t shirt, pulled him onto his lap, and let his hands roam from his chest to his back to his waist to his ass. Tré's body was softer that he remembered, the beginnings of a middle-age spread had seen to that, but that pert little butt he'd always admired remained. He gave it a good squeeze, then slid a hand under Tré's shorts and underwear, making him giggle.  
“I knew you always loved my butt!” Tré whispered with a mischievous smirk.  
“Shut up, Tré” Mike replied with a grin and a gentle pinch. Tré gave a yelp and a playful nip to Mike's slender neck, remembering the sweet spot he had. He knew he'd found the right place as his bandmate gave a soft gasp. He carried on kissing, licking and nibbling at the warm flesh as Mike moaned and writhed beneath him. Then, pulling away without a word, Tré stood, helped his friend up, and led him to his bedroom.

As they made their was across the room to Tré's bed, an naughty idea formed in Mike's head. He suddenly grabbed hold of the shorter man and pushed him face first against the wall. He pressed his body close against Tré's as his hand slowly snaked down to the bulge in his shorts. Mike's cock was harder than it'd been in years, and he found himself almost grinding it into Tré's lower back. His hand found the waistband of the drummer's shorts and slid underneath it, coming to a stop at Tré's own rock hard dick.  
“Mmmmike, please...” Tré moaned in a broken voice as Mike groped him. “Fuck! Mike, please.... just fuck me!” Mike pulled his hand away and walked over and sat on the bed. Tré followed him, grabbing a small bottle of lube from a drawer in the nightstand.  
“Hey, we didn't use that last time...” Mike smirked, looking at the bottle in Tré's hand.  
“Ok, one, I was a lot drunker last time, and two, it still hurt like hell at first!” Tré replied, throwing the bottle at Mike. He then pulled off his t shirt and tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, before hesitating. “Mike...are you sure about this?”  
“It's not like I've not seen you naked since, man...” Mike said, staring at the fine blond hairs head south from his navel.  
“Mike...”  
“Tré, look... We both want it, yeah?” He said, finally looking up into Tré's pale blue eyes. “I want it. I want you.” He leant forward and with a swift yank, Tré's shorts were at his ankles. Mike stood and quickly stripped then gently pushed Tré down onto his back. Tré grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and shoved it under his hips while Mike applied a generous amount of lube to three of his fingers. Positioning himself between his thighs, he stroked Tré's asshole before slowly sliding his middle finger into it. The insertion of his digit was rough, but not abusive, and he took his time to lubricate and gently stretch Tré, much to his obvious and very vocal enjoyment. With Mike's long fingers comfortably inside him, Tré started to beg for more.  
“Miiike, please... I'm ready, c'mon... ” Mike pulled his fingers out and squirted more lube into his hand, then started to stroke his cock. He grabbed Tré's legs and lifted them onto his shoulders, then aligned his dick with Tré's waiting hole. He pressed the head firmly against the reluctant opening as Tré tried to relax. It relented suddenly and Mike entered with about two inches very quickly. Tré hissed loudly.  
“Sorry... sorry, are you alright?!” Mike said with panicked expression. Tré nodded slowly. Mike waited for several seconds to allow Tré to adjust to his size and the searing pain. When he felt more relaxed, Tré gave a nod and Mike started thrusting slowly in and out, sliding deeper and deeper with every stroke.  
“Oh god, Mike, I'd forgotten how big you are!” Tré moaned loudly as Mike pulled nearly all the way out and plunged right back in again repeatedly. Tré gripped onto the bed sheets, trying to maintain his position as Mike's thrusts pushed him towards the edge. In one surreal moment Tré found himself wondering if the rhythm of the headboard hitting against the wall could be used in one of the new songs they were currently working on, until a hard thrust and his partner's hand around his aching cock brought him out of his reverie.  
“Tré, I'm getting real close... jerk it... I wanna see you cum” Tré took over stroking his cock, wiping the stream of pre-cum leaking from the head along the length of his shaft. He knew it wouldn't be long, and sure enough, within a few minutes of furious wanking, his lone ball tightened and his ass muscles clenched around Mike's prick.  
“Holy shit, Tré...so tight!” Tré didn't pay much notice, his face was contorted from his orgasm. He moaned profanities as he shot his load across his own chest and neck. The contractions from his orgasm pushed Mike over, he pulled out quickly and rubbed his cock against Tré's thighs. He grunted deeply as he came, shooting streams of hot, sticky cum over Tré's chest and face, then finally flopped down next to him, completely spent. Tré rolled onto his side and draped an arm across Mike's heaving chest. Neither of them said anything, just listening to their breathing both slowly returning to normal, enjoying the peaceful afterglow.

“This was fun” Tré jerked out of his light, post-sex slumber. Mike had rolled onto his side, and was watching him wake up with a small satisfied smile on his face.  
“Mhmmm... I know I enjoyed myself” replied Tré with a smirk. Mike brought a hand up to Tré's cheek and gently brushed a drop of cum away. “We should do it again.”  
“Maybe in the morning, stud” Mike snickered. “I'm exhausted.”  
“Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you're an old man now!” teased Tré, nearly falling off the bed to get away from Mike's tickling fingers. Mike yanked him back before he fell and pulled him in close.  
“We definitely won't be leaving it that long again, that's for sure.” he sighed as Tré snuggled in. Tré planted a lazy kiss on Mike's lips, as if to agree, and limbs entwined in pretty much the same position as they were so years previously, the pair drifted into a contented sleep.


End file.
